Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from New Zealand and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Peter and Kerry to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Stereo Dub,
Subhumans,
Lower 48,
Tubeway Army,
Motorama,
48th St. Collective,
Sly & The Family Stone,
MDC,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wally Richardson,
This Heat,
James White and The Blacks,
Brass Construction,
EPMD,
Organ,
Sam Rivers,
Sexual Harrassment,
David McCallum,
Radio Birdman,
Arab on Radar,
Babytalk,
Nas,
Black Sheep,
Jerry's Kids,
Sandy B,
The Index,
Spandau Ballet,
Niagra,
The Gun Club,
Cameo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Thompson Twins,
Excepter,
Connie Case,
The Mojo Men,
Cheater Slicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Matthew Halsall,
Fluxion,
Supertramp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ronan,
Janne Schatter,
Metal Thangz,
Rekid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Monks,
Angry Samoans,
Tim Buckley,
Scrapy,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Finger,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sixth Finger,
John Cale,
Lucky Dragons,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.